


Run, Run Rudolph

by LikeMeReckless



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27993531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LikeMeReckless/pseuds/LikeMeReckless
Summary: What problems could POSSIBLY arise in Riverdale when the core four head out on Black Friday searching for the year’s hottest toy?
Relationships: Archie Andrews/Veronica Lodge, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 10
Kudos: 51
Collections: Home for the HoliDale





	Run, Run Rudolph

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/192454274@N08/51014087448/in/album-72157718550812672/)

**Jones Household**

**Thanksgiving Night**

They hadn’t planned for this to be a tradition, but as most traditions go, it knitted itself into the fabric of their celebration, creating a time-honored event they observed year after year. 

Twelve years ago, as new college graduates living on pancakes and Keystone Light, a simple holiday together between friends with monstrous families began. Jughead’s father had fallen off the wagon again; Betty’s mother was rubbing crystals and practicing her chakras while doing downward dog on a cult leader each night. Veronica and Hiram were at odds since he had sunk her latest business venture just for fun, while Hermione ignored the family rivalry, zenned out on Xannies. Mary was off with her new girlfriend exploring the world, and Cheryl and Toni were lone wolves since Nana Rose had passed away two years prior.

Sitting in the corner of a dark bar, sipping their drinks and slurring their words, Betty had declared that none of them would return home for Thanksgiving to families who dragged them down, and from that year forward,  _ Friendsgiving _ would be observed- giving thanks for their chosen family.

Betty had offered to cook that first year, and subsequently got stuck cooking every year after, but she didn’t mind. Friendsgiving saw them through engagements, weddings, and the birth of their children. Twelve years later, Veronica and Archie had a six-year-old son, Fred, and Betty and Jughead had Izzy, a three-year-old chatterbox, and Oliver, who had just turned seven.

While their dinner was always looked forward to, it was another tradition, born that first year, that made the most memories. 

“Dad?” Fred whined from the kids’ table as they finished up dessert, their plates piled high with half-eaten slices of pie. “Tell us the story again. Tell us why we stay over at Uncle Jug and Aunt Betty’s house with Auntie Cheryl and Auntie Toni after Thanksgiving.”

“Ugh,” Ollie groaned. “We’ve heard it like a million times, Freddie. Can’t we just go play video games?”

“Video games?” Archie said in mock horror. “Video games over  _ my _ storytelling? This story is a key part of our oral history and it must be recounted every year.”

“Oral history?” Betty mouthed to Veronica, trying not to laugh out loud at how ridiculous it sounded coming out of Archie’s mouth. Veronica shrugged and shook her head and waved Betty off, grabbing a few plates and following her into the kitchen.

“I don’t know, B,” she sighed. “He’s been watching a lot of Discovery and the History channel. I swear it’s because Fred is coming home with all these facts and Archie wants to seem smarter than his teacher.”

Betty just laughed as she scraped the dirty plates into the trash, listening to Archie, with the occasional interjection from Jughead, tell their Thanksgiving tale.

“Once upon a time, a long, long time ago-” Archie began.

“When dinosaurs walked the earth…”

“Jug, seriously, there were no dinosaurs,” Archie said, frustrated. “This was twelve years ago, not like twelve thousand.”

Jughead wrinkled up his lip and tilted his head, a slight smirk almost adorning his lips before he shook his head and closed his mouth. “You know what, no. I’m not gonna touch that one. Continue with the  _ oral history _ , Arch.”

Archie tilted his head and turned back towards the kids, hoping his friend would zip it for the remainder of the story.

“Anyway, like I was saying, many Thanksgivings ago, all of us, your parents and aunts and uncles, had finished up Thanksgiving dinner and were sitting around playing cards and just enjoying the night.”

“Boooorrrriiiinnngggg,” Izzy drawled out, pretending to snore. “Get to the funny parts, Uncle Archie.”

Jughead snorted and looked down at his pint-sized mini-me. While Ollie was inquisitive and focused, with blonde hair, Izzy had dark hair and blue eyes and was a precocious ball of energy.

“Man, you guys become more of a tough crowd every year. Anyway, the good stuff. I was watching football, a special Thanksgiving event which must be honored. All true Americans commemorate each Thanksgiving with football and pie. It’s just wrong if you don’t.”

“...but  _ my _ dad doesn’t,” Ollie snapped back. “My dad says football is a barbaric event created by men who have too much testost-”

“ _ Your _ dad says that because he isn’t coordinated enough to toss a football, Ollie. But don’t worry, Uncle Archie will coach the PeeWee team.”

“Back to the story,” Fred cheered, waiting patiently for his favorite part.

“Alright, hold your horses. So there I was, watching Seattle take on Minnesota when Uncle Jug says that the football pants look like ballet tights and football is really just an excuse for ungraceful men to wear tights and dance around.”

Jughead raised a finger and pointed at Archie, turning seriously to the kids. “I just want to point out that I should have been able to express my opinions without the tragedy that happened next.”

“What happened?” Izzy cried out excitedly, not recalling the story from the year before when she’d been only two. 

“Well, Izzy,” Jughead said, taking over. “Uncle Archie had spent way too much time with his friend Jameson that night, and-”

“Who’s Jameson?” Izzy asked curiously. “Is he my uncle, too? Why isn’t he here? Does he not love us anymore? Did Uncle Archie scare him away? I miss him!”

“He’s an  _ old _ friend of Uncle Archie’s, Izz. You won’t meet him for a long time,” Jughead teased. “But he got Uncle Arch all riled up and when I made fun of the football pants, Archie ran across the room and dove straight on top of me in that very recliner he is sitting in now.”

“Tell the rest! Tell the rest!” Fred yelled, already giggling.

“Well, Uncle Archie landed  _ so _ hard on top of me that the footrest on the recliner sprung open and my feet flew up! We both went hurling backward and my shoe flew right off my foot! It spiraled, like a football, through the air and plunked straight through the TV screen!”

“And then what?” Fred clapped, bouncing up and down on his knees. “What did you say Uncle Jug while Aunt Betty was yelling at you from the dining room?”

Jughead smiled and glanced over at Betty. She was leaning against the entryway to the living room, hands crossed over her chest, shaking her head and trying not to laugh at the memory.

“I said, ‘ _ Touchdown! _ ’” Jughead recalled, laughing as well when all the kids rolled over giggling, yelling touchdown in the living room.

As the boys began to wrestle and roll over one another, Izzy wrinkled up her face and bit her bottom lip. “Daddy? But why do we stay with Aunt Cheryl and Aunt Toni because you broke the TV?”

Betty loved how curious Izzy was. She was a tiny pile of questions wrapped up in a cute little face. Betty walked over and scooped her up, plopping them both down on Jughead’s lap as he wrapped an arm around Betty to keep them in place.

“Well, Izzybug, after that I suggested we go out shopping at midnight when the stores opened to buy a new one. Auntie V was not too pleased with the idea, but after she found out there were in-person doorbusters and give-a-ways at Vouis Litton, she changed her mind.”

“And thus the tradition was born,” Cheryl chirped, curled up on the sofa with Toni at her side. “You rugrats stay with us and your parents go get down-and-dirty.”

“Yep,” Jughead agreed. “And even though daddy does not condone the intrusion on the holiday or mass consumerism, he does think it’s funny to watch Aunt V run in heels.”

“All right, guys,” Veronica said, glaring at Jughead while plopping an armful of toy catalogs on the floor. “Time for our other Thanksgiving tradition. It’s time to make your lists for Santa! Look through these and see what you may like for Christmas this year.”

“...but don’t forget to start your letters by asking how Santa is doing and sharing what things you are thankful for this year,” Betty added, glaring over at Veronica who shrugged. “We aren’t  _ that _ terrible that we forget to give thanks altogether.”

For the next hour, the kids worked on their letters with their parents' help, excited for their traditional start to the Christmas season, until finally, their letters were complete. Jughead and Archie got the kids changed into pajamas and into bed while Betty and Veronica cleaned up and read through what the kids had listed, dividing up who would purchase what.

When Jughead and Archie returned, they settled down with some cider and relaxed for a while before they headed out.

“So, where are we headed first this year? Will I be reunited with my Black Friday nemesis, pantless Santa, decking the aisles of Hallmart with his jingle bells?”

“So gross,” Toni grimaced. “This is why Cherbear and I cuddle up on your couch and watch holiday movies all night.”

Betty picked up the lists and scanned them again, a soft smile on her face. “They didn’t ask for much. They are such good kids. Most of it I think we can get at one stop. Oh! The boys both asked for something called an Ultrazard,” she explained. “We can just get that for each of them from us so they get the same thing.”

“Ultrazard?” Toni laughed. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

“Why?” Veronica asked, curled up into Archie’s side as he played with strands of her hair.

“Because it’s only like  _ the  _ hardest toy to get this Christmas. I’m talking worse than Wiggle-Me-Wally or the Space Rangers action figures. People got in line this morning to try and get one tonight.”

Jughead slapped a hand down on Betty’s thigh in exasperation, not even noticing the slight wince and dirty look his wife tossed him as he began his tirade. “See! This is why I hate this! They missed dinner as a family for what? A stupid piece of plastic? When I was a kid I would have loved toys for Christmas, but even more than that I would have loved a dinner with my family that didn’t end in broken glass.” 

Jughead deepened his voice and cleared his throat, feigning his best old man voice to quote Charles Dickens. “Christmas is a poor excuse every twenty-fifth of December to pick a man's pockets.”

Betty frowned and leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to her husband’s chin, stroking his hair gently. “And we have our dinner, Scrooge. We  _ always  _ will. This is just more of a fun, silly thing to do  _ afterward. _ I’d never sacrifice our Thanksgiving, Juggie .”

Jughead sighed and relaxed a bit, squeezing Betty’s knee and leaning into her touch. “I know, I know. And that fierce competitive side of you just  _ can’t  _ help it. It’s like a compulsion to  _ win  _ Black Friday and finish your holiday shopping before December even begins.”

“It really is,” Betty gushed out quickly. “I just  _ need _ it done, you know. It’s  _ such _ a high.”

Cheryl twisted a strand of red hair through her fingers and looked at them like side-show freaks. “You two need to have more sex,” she said flatly. “That’s what I do when I need a high and it works like a charm. And if you are, then you aren’t doing it right, ex-transient drifter slash cousin-in-law.”

Jughead, already in Christmas mode, turned to glare at his cousin-in-law, tuning into his holiday idol, Clark Griswold. “Can I refill your eggnog for you? Get you something to eat? Drive you out to the middle of nowhere, leave you for dead?”

As Jug continued to glare at Cheryl, and Betty at Jughead, Archie piped in cheerily to try and keep the peace. “Hey, guys, c’mon. How hard can it be? There are four of us and we’re an unstoppable team. We’ll find this thing and be home before breakfast.”

Toni and Cheryl just grinned wickedly at each other, stifling their guffaws as their friends nodded in agreement and drank their cider. They couldn’t wait for morning and their comical return.

**Midnight**

At eleven-thirty on the dot, they began gathering their things to head out. Archie had suggested they start at the Hallmart Department Store. It carried toys, had great deals, and had all of their other shopping needs readily available. It was also connected to the mall if all else failed. Their coupons were better than Stacy’s and the salespeople had been a bit more genial there the past two years.

As Jughead strapped on his watch and Betty organized the coupons in the plastic baggie she kept in her purse, Veronica trudged down their hallway, yanking and tugging at the denim that was scratching her skin.

“Holy Mother of turkey basters!” Jughead whispered, dropping his watch to the floor. “You- you have...legs...in the things...with the holes...and the buttons,” he stammered, raising an accusatory finger to point at her legs. “And the things on the feet with the rubber!”

Veronica rolled her eyes and sighed at her best friend’s husband, her chosen family. “Yes, Jughead. I am wearing jeans. Your wife’s jeans to be exact and I have no idea how you wear this fabric  _ all  _ the time, B! The roughness and chaffing!”

“...I fear you more than any spectre I have seen,” he whispered shakily, earning him a light slap from his wife and a warning to knock-it-off with the Christmas movie quotes.

Betty smiled and bit at her thumb, staring at Veronica’s footwear. “V?” she asked teasingly. “Are those your old cheerleading sneakers?” 

“They are the only sneakers I have currently!” she snapped at Betty. “My workout shoes have laces and I don’t want to get tripped or waste time tying them while we defeat the other eager consumers in their foray into holiday bliss.”

Betty shook her head and giggled again, looking over at her husband who was still standing there, awestruck. “I’m pretty sure this is bad luck,” he said warily. “I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit. You need to free your kneecaps, Veronica.”

A car horn blared from the driveway.

Veronica crossed her arms over her chest and jutted out one hip, glaring at him unamused. “I’m pretty sure that me in jeans and sneakers, which will only happen this once and  _ will not _ be commemorated with photographs, is not a sign of the apocalypse.”

Jughead scrunched up his brow and his lips, shaking his head slightly at her blasé demeanor in regards to her complete wardrobe flip -flop just as Archie opened the front door. “...you guys coming? The car is warmed up and we’re going to be so far back in line as it is!”

Piling to the car, to-go tumblers filled with coffee in hand, they set off in their four hundred-horse-powered Ford, ready to Run, Run Rudolph to make the kids' Christmas merry and bright.

….

“It’s so cold,” Betty chattered as they waited outside. “Six minutes to go, thank God. I can’t feel my toes.”

“You?” Jughead scoffed. “My tree is topped with blue bal-”

“Jughead!” Betty snapped, taking a deep breath to steady herself. “One more joke from you and I swear those balls will stay blue and you’ll see my resting Grinch face.”

Grumbling to himself, he toed at the cement on the sidewalk. “ But Betts, I have so many myrrh to share.”

“And what’s that smell?” Veronica said, waving a hand in front of her face. “It’s awful and whatever it is, it’s making me groggy and foggy.”

“That’s called a second-hand high, V,” Betty quipped. “Maybe it will start to keep us warm, or at least maybe we won’t care about the cold.”

“I’m so nervous, guys,” Archie said, adrenaline coursing through him like during his old football glory days. “What if we can’t get those Ultrazards?”

“We have a month before Christmas, Archiekins,” Veronica smiled, cuddling into his side. “It will be fine.”

“... could always do what good ol’ Gladys and FP did when I was seven,” Jughead offered. “Wrap a half-pack of Duracell’s with a note that says, ‘Toys not included’.”

Betty frowned and gave her husband a quick peck under the chin, knowing his wry humor was a poor attempt to fog over the burns of his past. Just then, the crowd began to surge forward as the doors to the department store were unlocked.

“Game time, baby,” Archie said smiling, as the inertia of motion moved them barreling toward the doors. A few patrons began to shove from behind, clawing and grabbing, knocking into the people interfering with their path. An older man was shoved forward, his hand gripping the door handle tightly to keep himself upright. Archie ran to help and offered an arm to allow him to right himself again. Before the man could give thanks, Archie was elbowed and chest-checked by someone behind them. The momentum of the blow pushed him up against the brick wall of the store with the door stuck between him and the crowd while his face was pressed up against the glass, squished and squashed as people continued inside.

“Archie!” Veronica cried, pressing through people to make her way to the door. 

“Go on without me!” he groaned, his mouth pressed to the glass as his wife tried to pry the doors free.

Veronica yelled and growled, but the people kept pushing. Annoyed, Veronica reached into her purse and pulled out a taser, holding it high up into the air.

“Everyone back off!” she screamed. “Now!”

The crowd stopped and Archie’s eyes bulged against the glass as his wife pulled open the door to free him from the glass prison.

“Holy sh- Ronnie!” Archie yelled, grabbing her arm and shoving the taser back in her purse as he looked around for security. “Where on earth did you get that?”

Grinning madly, she looked over her shoulder for their friends before whispering to her husband. “Betty’s nightstand. You wouldn’t  _ believe _ the stuff they have in there. I’m talking-”

Archie held up a hand and stopped her right then. “Nope. I take it back. I don’t want to know any more.”

They made their way into the store to reunite with their friends who were impatiently waiting next to the already tousled hats and mittens, doorbusters ravaged as shoppers entered the building.

“Where were you?” Betty snapped. “We were going to go on without you but I was worried Arch would get distracted by McRonald’s breakfast sandwiches again.”

“Seriously, Betty?” he said defensively. “That was  _ one _ time!”

Aggravated by their delay and now enticed by the idea of food, Jughead decided to get the ball rolling. If they grabbed the toys they needed, Betty and Veronica would then happily go shop for other things and he and Archie could peruse the electronics and grab an early morning bite. 

“Let’s get moving,” Jughead suggested. “Where is the toy section in this store? Do they move it every year?”

Betty began to lead the way, the rest of her friends following along, looking for signs as they walked. “I’d guess that it’s probably a section near the children’s clothes,” she theorized aloud. “We should try that first since they always move stuff around and make a huge toy display.”

They cut through the perfume and cologne section, Veronica gagging as she inhaled notes from twenty different bottles at once. With a hefty cough she sputtered out, “This is no Genaissance de la Mer.”

Jughead grinned wickedly. Since they had all settled down, he and Veronica had a continuous rivalry; loving but dastardly in nature. Arming himself with two bottles off the shelf, he turned towards her with his arms extended. “I present Giorgio Armpitee and CaCa Mademoiselle.” With a press of his finger, he sprayed a stream of both straight onto her clothes, watching her turn Santa-hat red.

With a quick spin, he took off down the aisle, Veronica hot on his heels. “I’m wearing sneakers this year, Jones, and I have your wife’s taser!”

Betty and Archie stood back, shaking their heads in admonishment. 

“Think they will ever grow out of it?” Archie asked hopefully. 

“I think it’s the only way those two can express their platonic love for one another, Arch,” Betty said as if she’d given up hope long ago. “You and I play video games. They play mind games. Just let them have it.”

Before they could get any further, Archie felt a tap on his shoulder. Betty recognized the kid attached to the finger. He was in his early twenties, supported by two crutches under his arms, most definitely, judging by his smell and his pupils, was the infamous toker in line outside.

“Excuse me, but which perfume can I get for my lady friend for uh, under fifteen dollars?”

“Oh, sorry,” Archie smiled. “I don’t work here.”

He and Betty turned to leave, but the shopper seized Archie by the back of his Riverdale High polo.

“What? Is my money not good enough here? Just because I can’t afford the twenty-dollar perfumes you think I’m trash?”

Archie’s eyes widened and he held his hands out in defense. “No, Bro. I would love to help you but I seriously don’t work here.”

No further explanation was rendered as the belligerent customer began swinging his crutch at Archie, knocking bottles of perfume off each shelf, the glass splattering on the floor and the fragrant liquids coating the aisle. Grabbing Betty’s hand, Archie took off, dragging her down the aisle to find their spouses.

“Where were you guys?” Veronica asked in annoyance when Betty and Archie finally caught up to them near houseware. “And why do you smell like a brothel?”

“Because you two...nevermind,” Betty huffed out tiredly. “Excuse me!” she shouted, chasing down a woman in a blue polo who did, in fact, work at the store. “Can you tell us where you arranged the toy displays this year?”

The woman, Dawn according to her nametag, smiled warmly at Betty and tilted her head a bit apologetically. “Actually, the toys are scattered through the store this year in multiple smaller displays. Our manager was on the frontlines last year when they were all in one spot and lost two teeth before twelve-fifteen.”

“Right,” Betty grimaced, rubbing her tongue over her teeth. “Thanks.” Turning back towards her shopping partners, she let out a deep breath and nodded as the wheels in her head turned, formulating a plan.

“We need to split up,” she decided. “V, you and I will take the left side off the center aisles and escalator. Jug and Arch, you two take the right.”

“Sleigh what? Why can’t I go with you?” Jughead pouted.

“Because I can’t take one more movie reference or pun tonight and you and Veronica can’t be trusted together,” she said flatly. “Now, let’s go. Time’s a-wasting.”

**One O’Clock**

Arms linked, Betty and Veronica headed through the women’s section, their eyes peeled for any colorful and sparkling displays where toys might be located.

“I can’t believe they scrapped the toy department,” Betty said distastefully. “I mean, it’s  _ Christmas.  _ Is the manager the Grinch?”

Veronica shrugged, having a bit more understanding coming from a business approach.

“I get it. It’s making me frustrated, but a huge crowd rushing towards a small concentrated area is a recipe for disaster. I mean, B, the guy lost his teeth last year.”

Betty shrugged Veronica off as she picked up the pace. “Get a mouthguard. Oh! Over there!”

Down the aisle and across the floor, about fifty feet away, a six-tiered platform covered in festive sequins and candy canes stood like a beacon, drawing the shopper's eyes as they passed. A small, mechanical elf, dressed in a shiny green outfit, periodically rose from the center, spraying glitter mist into the air. At the edge of the fourth tier stood a clear box, the word Ultrazard emblazoned on the front in silver lettering.

Betty championed a fist, quickly pulling it back in so as not to draw attention to their prize before mouthing “hot damn” quite aggressively at her friend. “Let’s go. Stay low and follow my lead.”

Veronica stared at her with a frightened, hesitant look. “Stay low? What is this? A Vietnam air raid?”

Betty slapped her hand backward, urging Veronica to be quiet as she pressed a finger to her lips and hissed. “We can’t draw attention to the toy. If we move fast someone else will move faster!”

“Uh-huh,” Veronica nodded, crouching down, more out of terror of what Betty might do if she didn’t than out of necessity, and followed Betty slowly down the aisle. When they came across the space between their aisle and the next, Betty leaped up from her crouched position and sprung forward, grabbing the box and growling out a triumphant ‘yes!’ As her fingers gripped the cardboard. Veronica’s face lit up as well as she hugged her best friend and they jumped up and down, doing their own female version of a touchdown victory dance right there in the center aisle.

Elated, they slowed their celebration and righted their clothing, tossing challenging glances at the other shoppers watching them as if they needed to be committed.

“Oh, B,” Veronica said, a bit breathless from her exuberance. “Your shoelace is untied.”

With a nod of thanks, Betty placed the Ultrazard down beside her and kneeled to tie her shoe as Veronica sauntered over to smell some holiday scented candles that were placed at the end of an aisle. So pumped up on her own adrenaline, Betty didn’t hear the mechanical hum of the motorized wheelchair until the last moment. An older gentleman in a black leather jacket and faded denim-washed jeans rode by on his assistive device, bending sideways and scooping the toy off the floor and placing it on his lap as he absconded away with her item. 

As the box glided from her view, Betty whipped her head up, hastily finishing with her shoelace as she tripped over her own feet trying to stand up so quickly. For a moment the store spun, the bright fluorescent lights blurring her vision as she took a deep calming breath. She realized she had only had coffee and wine since five-o’clock that evening and she needed to grab a bottle of water asap. 

“V!” she yowled, pointing at the old man, their prize secured safely on his lap. “He stole the Ultra-thingy!”

He hadn’t made it far. The speed mechanism on his electric wheelchair was thus that they could easily catch up to him.

“Sir,” Betty said politely, surprised when he continued to stare ahead and ignore her. “Sir, I believe you took that from me and I really need it back. It’s for my son.”

“You put it down,” he snapped, eyes still front and center.

“I was tying my shoelace, I-”

“You snooze, you lose, blondie!” he laughed out heartily. “You tie, I buy!”

With another chortle from deep within his belly, he swiftly turned the handles to the left, veering his wheelchair in a circle to head back the other way, running over Veronica’s foot in the process.

“Ow! Oh!” she cried out, hopping on one foot and grabbing at the other. “B! Get that Scrooge on wheels!”

Betty’s eyes widened and her shoulders shrugged up to her ears, her hand out and open before her silently asking Veronica, “What do you expect me to do?” 

“V, I’m no Mother Theresa, but I’m not going to assault an old man. I- I don’t know what to do here.”

A crash and clonk, accompanied by shouts of aggravation and pain had them spinning on their heels, eyes following the sound. They were unprepared for the sight before them. Two blue-haired women, not a day shy of eighty, in their housecoats and tan, orthopedic sneakers, stood battering the toy thief with their purses and canes, poking at his sides with the bottoms of their walking sticks and raining their handbags down on him without mercy.

“...be ashamed of yourself! Stealing from that woman! That was for her son!”

“...just a terrible representation of our generation…”

Stifling laughter, Betty and Veronica rushed over. They were glad justice was being served, but they didn’t want to see anyone bludgeoned to death over plastic parts and batteries.

“Alright, alright! Let’s ease up on him, shall we?” Veronica yelled as she stopped the cane in midair, saving the man from another thrashing. With a moment’s reprieve and wide, terrified eyes, the wheeled bandit tossed the toy into the aisle and started up his chair, spinning and high-tailing it out of the fray. His wheel knocked a cane, sending one of the women tipping sideways, her cane coming up as Betty grabbed her shoulders, stopping her from a fall. The cane flew overhead and crashed into the display, straight into the mechanical elf’s glitter shooter.

“Oh goodness,” the woman gasped. “Thank you, dear. I may have broken my hip if I fell.” She glanced over apologetically at the Ultrazard. The box was broken and the pieces smashed. “I’m sorry about the toy. We tried.”

“You were wonderful,” Betty gushed. “You restored my faith in mankind. Let me get your cane for you.”

Standing upright and releasing the woman, Betty pulled at the cane, jammed tightly into the glitter blaster with no luck. “V, I need your help.”

Veronica grabbed onto the wood with her and they both tugged with all their might. All at once, the cane sprung free and the pent up glitter that was plugged up by the cane came blasting out of the elf, coating Betty and Veronica from head to toe in a shiny, sticky glitter shower.

Sputtering and spitting out glitter, Betty handed the woman her newly bedazzled cane. With a muffled thanks, the two women took off before they were also decked out like disco balls.

“Merry Christmas!” the elf sang out, dipping back down between the display shelves again.

“I want a new shopping partner,” Veronica said flatly, her eyes direct and bright, surrounded by the shining sparkles.

Heading to the ladies’ room, they grabbed some toilet paper from a stall and began swiping at their clothes and skin, the glitter adhering to them like paint. After twenty minutes of fruitless wiping, Veronica sighed and tossed the useless paper into the trash.

“Oh, don’t you two look festive!” a woman exclaimed as she washed her hands. “Did they hire entertainment this year? How fun! When do you go on?”

“When the bell tolls one,” Betty snapped, heading out of the bathroom and back into the madness.

…..

BJ: Did you guys have any luck?

JJ: Archie found a bodybuilding Santa that plays the theme from Rocky in all jingle bell tones…

BJ: So that would be a whopping no, then.

JJ: You two find it or is your counterpart too busy drooling over shoes?

BJ: Long story… short version is no.

JJ: Don’t stress, babe. We’ll work it out.

BJ: <3

…..

**Two O’Clock**

“You want to grab a snack, Jug?” Archie asked as they wandered the aisles, slowly. 

While the girls took on shopping like ambitious soldiers, Archie and Jughead normally found decent seats near the food court, scarfing down breakfast sandwiches and cinnamon buns while shopping online for whatever it was they were charged with finding. Between snacks, they would walk through a few stores, usually looking for things the girls would like, while their wives shopped for everyone else on the list. This year though, they needed to do less sitting and more shopping since disappointing the boys was not something either of them was keen to do.

“I can always snack, Arch,” Jughead said eagerly. “But we better make it quick and take it to go. Betty said they’ve had no luck so far.”

They made for the front of the store, settling for the only food available there, McRonald’s. Jughead hoped they could finish up here soon and head over to the center of the mall where more food options lie, but he wasn't counting on it, not since they had all struck out thus far in securing the Ultrazard.

“You want one or two?” Archie called from the line.

“Two, but I’ll have one. If Betty finds me eating and not shopping she’ll be mad as it is. If I’m double-fisting fast food then she will also start laying into me about my cholesterol and living for my children.”

Archie shook his head and sighed. “Yeah, she’s been leaning on me to get you to the gym lately, bro. She’s mad at  _ me _ that you won’t come.”

“New year’s resolution,” Jughead offered. “Go to the gym with Arch so Betty doesn’t level him in kickboxing.”

Satisfied with his response, Archie paid for their snack and they munched as they browsed, scanning the shelves as they went.

“Any idea what you’re going to get Betty this year?” Archie asked casually as he chewed. “Ronnie makes it easy. She just sends me links now after all this time.”

Jughead swallowed and cleared his throat, glancing over at his friend awkwardly. “Betty never wants anything. I’m always left to my own devices and I’m pretty good at picking out gifts for her. Her stocking is my favorite part. You can’t go wrong with edible massage gel, you know?”

Archie pinched his lips tight and shook his head as if he didn’t know at all.

“But this year she told me what she wants. She wants another baby.”

“Jesus,” Archie huffed out, almost choking on his sandwich. “That’s a hell of a request. Ronnie and I knew before Freddie that we were stopping after one. How do you feel about it?”

Jughead balled up the wrapper in his hand, tossing it basketball-style into the receptacle they passed as he considered his feelings. He loved his kids. Ollie and Izzy were his world, but could he handle more? He was already exhausted. But the thought of more tiny hands and feet that shared Betty’s genes also made him content in a way he never knew existed.

“Jury is still out,” Jughead admitted, stopping suddenly and elbowing Archie harder than he planned.

Up ahead a fistfight had broken out between two guys their age, a seventy-inch television between them on the floor, the last one left in stock. 

“I had my eyes on it first!” a scrawny blonde yelled, yanking the box back towards himself.

“Eyes aren’t hands!” barked the taller, more built, dark-haired guy, pulling the box back to his side. “My hands touched it first!”

The tiny blonde raised his clenched fists into the air in a fighting position. “My hands are going to touch  _ you  _ first!” 

“Jug,” Archie said softly. “Look at that kid. He’s gonna get a concussion when that guy knocks him into next Tuesday. We have to stop them.”

Jughead grabbed Archie’s forearm and pursed his lips. “Arch, no. They are grown men being stupid over electronics. We do not need to interfere. It won’t end well for us.”

With a weak shout, the scrawny customer swung and barely made contact with the other man’s shoulder before he pulled his fist back, shaking it and crying out in pain. His opponent remained completely unphased. The taller man just grinned and cracked his knuckles, realizing exactly how easy the fight would be.

“Jug?” Archie pleaded, putting on his most beseeching face. Jughead could see Archie’s righteous, bleeding heart wouldn’t be satisfied unless they intervened, so reluctantly, he conceded.

They jogged over just as the hulk-of-a-man raised his arm and pulled it back to swing. They weren’t going to make it. With his long legs, Jughead was two steps ahead of Archie. He had just secured himself behind the guy when, without warning, the boy ducked to the floor, the other man’s clenched fist colliding with the side of Jughead’s face, sending him sprawling back into a display of televisions. The boxes began to fall and cascade, thankfully missing his body as they crashed and smashed all around him.

“Jughead!” Archie yelled in shock, taking off towards where he fell. Before he could reach him, a figure in an oversized red coat, droopy, dirty white beard with no pants, squatted down at his side.

“Santa’s got this!” the clearly intoxicated man slurred, straddling his body and leaning down to seal his lips over Jughead’s, administering unnecessary and ineffective CPR.

“No, pantless Santa!” Archie screamed horrified, just as Jughead’s body reanimated and his eyes blew open wide, Santa’s lips still sealed to his own.

“He’s alive!” Santa shouted. “It’s a Christmas miracle! I did it!”

With his head throbbing it took Jughead a minute to fully comprehend the position he was in. His eyes trailed from Santa’s pasty, white thighs, up to where his pants and undergarments should have been, before coming face-to-face with his old nemesis.

“Ho, Ho, Ho, buddy. Fear not, I have revived you!” Santa hiccuped, the stale smell of beer wafting from his lips.

Jughead’s mind finally caught up to his eyes and his muscles and nerve endings soon after that. With every ounce of strength he had, he pushed the pantless imposter from his body, sending him sprawling on the floor before Jughead scrambled up off the floor and took off running.

“Hey! I saved you, pal! Come back here and thank me with a beer or you’re on the naughty list!”

"I'm Claus-trophobic!” Jughead yelled as he sprinted towards the toiletry and beauty aisle, connected to frozen food, with Archie hot on his heels. Grabbing a bottle of green Swishterene mouthwash, he peeled off the anti-tamper plastic wrap and began to chug, swallowing the liquid completely and hoping the alcohol content wasn’t that high. After a few gulps, he reserved some in his mouth and began to swish and wash pantless Santa’s stale taste from his own. 

A putrid smell wafted over mid-swish and Jughead held his breath, wrinkling up his nose at the offending scent. Turning slowly he came face-to-face with a middle-aged woman, her enormous puffy coat bulging out with a potent, fishy stench pouring off of her like the worst kind of body odor.

With the most serious look, raising a single finger to her lips, the woman unzipped the top of her coat just slightly, pieces of cod spilling from the down enclosure and flopping on the floor before him, his lips still full of the now-burning mouthwash.

“Shhh,” the woman whispered, placing a piece of cold, wet cod in his hand. “They can’t security tag the fresh seafood.”

The woman zipped her coat back up and strode past him. Archie arrived just in time for Jughead to swivel on his foot, toss the cod, lean over the coffee cup Archie was holding to vomit. Breathing heavy, tears leaking from his eyes, Jughead slowly wiped his lips with his shirt sleeve before dragging his eyes up to Archie’s blown-open ones. Archie breathed steadily, gritting his lips closed tightly and shaking his head a bit.

“Arch, no,” Jughead said cautiously. “I’m-I’m sorry. Just hold it together, man. You can do it. Don’t-”

With a final attempt to hold it in, Archie squeaked out a ‘nope’ before regurgitating his own breakfast sandwich into the cup as well. Archie’s upchuck had Jughead gagging again and Jughead’s gagging urged Archie to dry heave more. They saddled back-and-forth in the grotesque dance for a few moments before they both got control of their reflexes.

“I’m texting Betty,” Jughead mumbled, his words muffled into his sleeve. “I need to leave this God-forsaken place.”

…..

JJ: Can we please leave this terrifying place and seek refuge somewhere safe?

BJ: Yeah. I think we are out of luck here anywhere. V and I watched them restock and there was nothing.

JJ: Fantastic. Meet you guys at the front and we can try Hoardstrom’s next?

BJ: Good plan. What has you “Jonesing” to leave?

JJ: I see what you did there. I support that pun. I got a black-eye in the electronics department, kissed by pantless Santa, and stole a bottle of mouthwash which I straight up drank next to a woman with a coat full of cod. I won’t even tell you what happened after that.

BJ: Wait, you stole mouthwash?

JJ: That’s all you react to there? That I pocketed some alcohol-water? 

BJ: I mean, it’s kind of hot.

JJ: That’s me. A rebel without a Claus.

BJ: Well come find your misses then, Santa. V and I are already out front.

…..

**Three O’Clock**

“Are you two alright?” Veronica asked as a pale-looking Archie and a haggard-looking Jughead met them at the exit. “Oh my God, Jughead. Your eye!”

“Why do you two look like disco balls covered in glitter?” Archie replied. “Was there a pop-up gameshow staged that we didn’t know about? Maybe the North Pole version of pudding wrestling?”

“Juggie!” Betty gasped, ignoring Archie, cradling her husband’s face in her hands. “I thought you were kidding! I’m taking our Christmas card pictures tomorrow! Forget it. I can put some concealer on you.”

Jughead pushed her hands back and scoffed. “ _ No, ‘Oh, Juggie. How are you? Baby, what happened? _ ’ Just, ‘ _ Oh crap, my family photos are ruined. _ ’ The thrill is gone.”

Betty slapped him playfully and laced her fingers through his own. “Always so dramatic. Besides, that bruise is child’s play compared to some you’ve had.”

Jughead bit his lip and grinned in happy recall. “Oooh, remember that one I got from your foot after I-”

“Nope!” Veronica yelled out, harshly. “Not tonight. I was in your bedside drawers earlier and I do not want to hear more. Let’s go to Hoardstrom’s. It’s already three and we’ve accomplished nothing.”

They walked through the inside of the mall, choosing to stay warm rather than get in the car and drive around to the other side of the building. When they passed the food court, Betty offered to stop so the boys could grab a snack. When both grimaced and declined, they continued on to their next destination.

“Okay,” Betty sighed. “Let’s split for another hour and then reconvene right back here. V and I will search Hoardstrom’s and Jug, you and Arch go next door to Sleigh-mart. It’s a pop-up toy shop for the holidays, but you never know.”

They separated again, promising to call if one of them was successful, and headed back into the shops. 

“At least here there is a designated toy section,” Veronica sang gratefully, much more chipper now that they were in a store more to her liking. “And it just so happens we have to go through the shoe department to get there. What a hardship.”

Betty grinned over at her friend, feeling a bit more relaxed now as well. “V, I mean this with love, but do you think they will let you sit in one of their chairs wearing cheer sneakers and my jeans while covered in glitter?”

Veronica waved Betty off and let her eyes drift towards the high-heel displays. “I don’t need to try them on, B. I know my size in every brand they carry.”

Seeing a pair of black velvet Youpoutin’s, Veronica called out over the crowd. “Jimmy! Jimmy, it’s me!”

The salesboy, who had been fitting another customer, promptly stopped and ran to her side.

Veronica put on her best smile and flicked her hair back. “Jimmy, my dear. How are you? How’s your mom?” 

“Good Miss Lodge… Andrews… Lodge-Andrews, I mean…”

“Jimmy, stay with me,” Veronica commanded. “I know you're busy, so just have these, in my size, charged to my account and I’ll pick them up on my way back. Kay?”

“Anything you say!” he beamed as she held out a cash tip that he covertly snuck into his pocket, running back to the angry customer he had abandoned.

“Okay, B. Let’s hit the toys.”

If anyone else was with Veronica, they may have been surprised, but not Betty. She had known her for too long and this was all par for the course on an outing with her. Crossing the store and taking the escalator down to the children’s department, they ran right towards the toy section. Quickly they began to search but had no luck.

“Can I help you with anything?” a gray-haired woman in a high-collared blouse asked from behind a counter. “Perhaps one of our organic, wooden cradles for a doll or some magnetic builders would suit your needs?”

Her name tag read, ‘Ruth,’ and Betty considered her prim and proper pose. She couldn’t imagine Ruth loved working on Black Friday.

“Yes, Ruth,” she said sweetly. “Thank you. We are looking for two Ultrazards. Do you have any in stock?”

Ruth looked at Betty with complete disgust and utter disdain as she curled up her lip and sneered at her.

“We don’t carry toys made with polyvinyl chloride, dioxide, phthalates, and other carcinogens,” Ruth answered snarkily. “Perhaps you can treat your children with something educational and made from natural wood. How about this beautifully carved checker set?”

“Sorry, Ruth,” Veronica shot out cooly. “We only give our children mind-rotting, violent, chemical-laden Hokémon toys. But thanks for the suggestions… and the judgment. I take it that part was free of charge.”

With the saleswoman scoffing and grumbling behind them, they left the toy department to head back upstairs, pausing for a moment in Housewares to formulate a plan.

“Can you believe that woman?” Veronica snapped out in outrage as Betty leaned back against a table of towels, picking up one to twist around in her fingers as they talked. “She was awful. Do I sound like that when I talk about the contents of your closet?”

“Often, yes,” Betty grimaced. “But I know your critiquing comes from a place of love. Speaking of my closet, if the boys weren’t successful we should try Tegrat next.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Betty caught the motion a moment before it escalated. A frantic woman brandishing a rolling pin was at her side, the weapon raised high above her head. “That’s the last two-dollar towel. I  _ need  _ the towel.”

Betty glanced down at the dishtowel she held and outstretched her arm, offering it to the woman. “No one here needs to get hurt today,” she explained calmly, using the training her paper had provided for when they found themselves in precarious situations such as these. “Take the towel, go ahead.”

The woman, hyped up on caffeine and possibly more, shifted her eyes wildly between the two of them. “This is my third Hoardstrom’s today. They have  _ never _ sold these towels for two-dollars before and I  _ need  _ them to match my set. My mother-in-law called mine ratty. Ratty! That judgemental bitch won’t be able to say that now!”

Getting caught up in her rage the woman raised the rolling pin again as Betty and Veronica screamed. Betty turned sideways grabbing the first thing she could get her hands on; cooking spray from the nearby baking display. Popping off the cap, she turned and fired just before the woman could bring the rolling pin down atop her head, the wooden mallet falling hard to the floor as she screamed and swiped at her eyes.

“My eyes!” she screamed. “Oh, you bitches! Just wait! I’m coming for you! I’m coming for you and all of your bathroom hand-towels!”

“B,” Veronica breathed out worriedly, eyeing security. “Let’s get out of here!”

Running as fast as their feet would take them, they all but leaped onto the escalator, heading back up to the main floor and exit. As they neared the top, Betty frowned and began to yank her leg backward.

“Ron,” Betty cried nervously. “I’m stuck.”

“Stuck?” Veronica repeated. “What do you mean stuck?”

“I mean stuck as in stuck! My shoelace is lodged in between the steps!”

Frantically, Veronica bent down and began to tug at Betty’s shoelace to no avail. Grabbing her purse, she pulled out a metal nail file and began to saw at the string, glancing anxiously over her shoulder as they approached the top of the stairs.

“It’s not breaking, B!” she cried as the steps reached the next floor and began to sink below the marble, pulling Betty’s shoelace with it. Betty was tugging as hard as she could, yelling out as her foot was pulled toward the mechanism.

“This is why we wear step-ins or velcro, B! Velcro! Have I taught you nothing?” Veronica howled out, terrified. “Take off your shoe!”

Quickly, and at an awkward angle, Betty pried the shoe from her foot at the very last moment, watching the teeth of the steps eat her sneaker, the escalator coming to a grinding, screeching halt only moments later. Pulling herself up from the floor, Veronica hugged her tightly as they both calmed their breathing, ushering her away from the scene before they were discovered.

A while after, they exited the store to find the boys already waiting for them. Jughead cocked a brow and took in Betty’s appearance; still covered in glitter, ponytail askew, rocking Veronica’s new three-inch velvet platform heels with her sweatshirt and yoga pants, one sneaker in hand.

“Is this the new working-mom stripper look?” he asked teasingly. “‘Cause I’d pay for that.”

Earning himself a punch in the arm, Jughead wrapped his arms around his wife as she fell forward against his chest, mumbling something about man-eating machines and hating today.

“No luck?” Veronica asked Archie as he frowned back at her. 

“Not even close,” he sighed. “What next?”

“Tegrat,” Betty muttered against Jughead’s t-shirt. “That’s our last hope.”

Veronica and Archie exchanged tired looks but slumped their shoulders in solidarity and agreement.

“Fine, B,’ Veronica agreed. “One more store, but that’s it. And I’m shopping with Archiekins. You keep getting me into these ridiculous situations.”

“Same with Jug!” Archie cried. “You two are like Murphy’s Law!”

Betty was taken aback by Archie’s scientific reference and he could tell, shrugging and blushing a bit. “I saw it in that movie with Jessica Alba and the penguin.”

Jughead chuckled and peeled Betty off of his chest. “To Tegrat we go?”

With a deep breath and a shoulder roll, Betty kissed him quickly and nodded. “To Tegrat we go.”

**Four O’Clock**

“How about we stick together this time?” Archie suggested, not ready to hear his wife moan about itchy denim or Betty’s cockamamie schemes.

“We might as well,” Jughead shrugged. “We haven’t had much luck alone.”

“We’ve got this, boys!” Veronica cheered, doing a full-on clasp and high-v, old moves from her cheerleading days. “Sorry, I’m so tired and these sneakers are giving me flashbacks.”

As they headed back to toys, Betty joined Veronica in a holiday-inspired rendition of an old Vixens cheer as they hopped arm and arm through the store.

The crowds were thin at this hour. Most shoppers were out at midnight through two, or ten in the morning and all day after that. Four-o’clock was a quieter aesthetic and the gentle hum of the fluorescent lights and the squeak of the shopping cart wheels on the linoleum floors. The silence seemed ominous as they entered the mechanical doors, shuffling in one behind the other and heading directly for the toy department.

“Three-point-eight billion women on earth and we have to marry the two that are like Lucy and Ethel, scheming and singing” Archie grumbled.

Jughead just shrugged, grinning at his high-heeled mess of a wife up ahead. “I dunno, Arch. Did you ever consider that if Ron has the sneakers she may have the uniform? I know Betty does and from time to time-“

“You can stop now,” Archie pleaded, his face scrunched up in serious thought. “But maybe you have a point.”

The singing and laughter stopped as they approached their shopping destination. Betty tightened her ponytail and Veronica secured her Velcro tighter.

Turning to their husbands, Betty spoke quite intensely about their plans. “Alright, boys. This is it. The big one! We can’t strike out again.”

Jughead wrapped an arm around Betty’s waist and leaned in close to her ear, his lips brushing her skin. “That’s the one, Marv! That’s the silver tuna!”

“Jughead!” Betty began to rant. “I have been awake for thirty-two hours. In that period of time, I have cleaned the house, yelled at our kids, ran six miles, re-cleaned the house, had my arm up a turkey’s ass, cooked a full meal, played hostess, washed dishes and cleaned again, got blasted by glitter, and was almost maimed by a mall escalator. I haven’t had water in hours. I’m so dehydrated that my lips are chapped. I’m light-headed and if I could even pee right now I swear I could fill a highlighter and I just want to find this toy for our son and go ho ho ho home. Do not push me. Is that so much to ask?”

Jughead sighed and dropped his shoulders, pulling his wife in tighter and pressing her against his chest in a tight hug. He swayed her back and forth a bit and cradled her head in his one hand. Looking up at their friends over Betty’s shoulder, he shot them a frightened look and whispered, “She’s an angry elf.”

“Jughead Jones!” Betty seethed as Archie and Veronica, falling over in a fit of exhausted and delirious giggles, made themselves scarce.

Betty shoved off Jughead’s chest and stalked after them, mumbling something about taking the batteries out of all the remotes and cancelling his Watchflix subscription.

The toy aisle was remarkably quiet when they arrived. As it spanned the length of the store for the holidays, Jughead and Betty started at one side and Archie and Veronica at the other. Archie had an arm drooped over his wife’s shoulder as they trod down the brightly illuminated aisle. Veronica picked up a stocking stuffer here or there so she could at least say she had gotten something done that night.

Jughead quietly apologized to Betty the moment they were alone. 

“I’m sorry I know how tired you must be after all you’ve done for the holiday. I just use humor when I’m otherwise out of ideas or frustrated and this whole shopping trip has been a giant test of my patience.”

Betty laced her fingers through his and gave them a squeeze and a sympathetic look. “I know, Jug. And you were busy, too. I know you and Izzy spent half the day in the bathroom. Potty training isn’t easy. And you did all the furniture moving and heavy lifting for me. We can set Ollie up with way more video game time than normal today when Izzy naps and maybe we can take some time for ourselves to just cuddle up and relax.”

Kissing the top of her head, Jughead sighed. “Maybe a post-holiday foot-rub is in order as well.”

Betty clucked her tongue and half-smiled and half-pouted at his gesture. “Who says the romance is gone after all these years.”

Garnering as serious of a look as he could, he teased, “Oh, I meant for me,” earning himself a playful poke in the ribs just as Betty stopped them both short, mid-step.

“Jug, look!” she cried happily.

On the shelf before them, stood an Ultrazard. The packaging was still pristine and undamaged, as it lay haphazardly in the Clay-doh section of the aisle. With tired, caffeine-fueled, shaking limbs, Betty reached out and grabbed the box, hugging it tightly to her chest, just about ready to cry tears of elation… or perhaps exhaustion. 

Faintly in the background, the light tingling of a bell rang out down the long stretch of aisle, followed by the honking of a horn. So wrapped up in their excitement, it took a few extra moments for Betty and Jughead to register the shouts coming their way. Glancing down towards their friends, they saw Archie and Veronica wildly flailing their arms, screaming at the top of their lungs to run or duck.

“Betty!” Veronica shouted, mouth wide-open and eyes bulging. “Betty, get out of the way now! Behind you!”

Toy clutched in her hands, Betty pivoted, Jughead turning right behind her, their jaws dropping at the sight before them. A heavy-set man in a Viking hat sat astride a princess bicycle complete with pastel tassel streamers. Clutched in his hand was a three-foot green lightsaber, pointed out in front of him like a long jousting lance. Both feet on the pedals, he rolled back and forth a bit, the bike equivalent of revving his engine, while jingling and honking out his best rendition of the opening to jingle bells before the wheels began to glide down the aisle, directly at them

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Jughead gulped.

Barreling full-speed ahead, he tucked the stick partially under his arm and aimed at Betty, pedaling faster and picking up speed. “If you only knew the power of the dark side.”

Paralyzed, partly from a fuzzy exhausted brain, and partially due to the sheer absurdity of the situation, their feet could not catch up to their brains. The bike was hurtling towards them at light speed. In a moment of clarity and realization, Betty turned to the side and swung out her arms.

“V! Catch!” Betty bellowed, hurling the Hokémon robot through the air and down the aisle into Veronica’s hands. The bike hadn’t stopped its forward assault and, as Betty swiveled back, she saw it was closing in on her. The lance was pointed directly where the toy had been in her arms. With not a moment to spare, Jughead gripped Betty’s shoulders from behind and all but tossed her against the shelving, shielding her with his body as the bike whipped past, missing them by less than an inch. The enraged Viking rode on, his conquest now set on Veronica and the Ultrazard sitting in her hands. Grabbing the toy from his wife, wide-eyed and panting, Archie yelled, “Dive!”, taking off in a sprint as Veronica flew head-first into a bin of stuffed fa-la-la-la llamas.

“Jug!” Archie yelled as his pursuer closed in. 

Exchanging a glance with his wife and ensuring she was all right, Jughead and Betty separated. Jughead took off after Archie while Betty rescued Veronica from her plush prison.

“The boys,” Veronica said breathlessly. “We need to help them!”

Betty eyed the contents of the aisle and grinned. “Let’s go get our guys and our Hokémon, V.”

Up ahead, Jughead chased after the bike as the bike chased after Archie. He was closing in, just a few meters between the tip of the lightsaber and Archie’s back.

“Arch! Shift and snap, downfield!” Jughead called out, using football terminology Archie wouldn’t be unable to confuse.

Planting his feet, Archie turned and tossed the Ultrazard, spiralling through the air, over to his friend who caught it against his chest. “Touchdown!” Jughead cried, taking him back to the event that began this whole tradition twelve long years ago.

As the bike hit its breaks, Archie did a wide turn and sprinted towards Jughead as the bike turned around, still gunning for them. The pink princess tassels flew backward as the bike rocketed full speed at them.

“What the-” Archie screamed in complete consternation. “Is this guy turbo-powered? Does he have bionic kneecaps? And where the hell is an employee when you need one? Is everyone on break?”

“Hey!” a very angry female voice called down the aisle as Veronica stepped into their view. “That’s our Hokémon, you holiday hold-upper!” With a pull of her finger, Veronica began to fire Merf darts and balls at the oncoming perpetrator. The shock was enough for him to slow and swerve as Betty popped out of a side aisle towards his back, swinging a jump rope overhead.

“Yippee-Ki-Yay, mother-” Betty yelled, swinging the jump rope and hooking it through the spokes of the wheel, sending their biking Viking over the handlebars and headfirst into a Christmas candy display.

“That actually worked,” Betty whispered as she looked up to find her friends staring wide-eyed. Dropping the other handle of the jump rope, she jogged up to meet them, her husband still slack-jawed and droopy-eyed.

“You just quoted Die Hard,” he sputtered out dumbfounded. 

“That is what you just took away from that scene, Jug? I-”

His lips swallowed her words as his one hand slid across her jaw and the other possessive lay around her waist. His tongue battled with hers aggressively, seeking more pressure as he pressed her back against the magazine rack.

Breaking the kiss to peck at his jaw, Betty whispered, “I want another baby, Juggie.”

He reconnected his lips to her and pressed his arm above her head and his body flush against hers, locking her in place against the tabloid display.

“Okay,” he conceded softly. “One more.”

“Maybe two,” she said ardently against his lips as they traded frantic kisses.

“One,” Jughead repeated quickly, groaning as Betty bit into his lip and gripped the hair at the back of his neck. “Maybe two.”

Archie studied the patches of gum, hard and blackened, stuck to the shop floor while Veronica watched, nodding in approval. “Let’s go check out, Arch. They may be a while, Remember that time we all went to New Orleans and-”

“Check out,” Archie repeated quickly. “Great idea. Let’s do that. Let’s do anything but this.”

As Archie and Veronica paid at self-checkout, a throat cleared behind Betty and Jughead.

“Mmm, hmm,” the khaki’d employee in the red polo coughed. “Appropriate store behavior, please. You’re adults for God’s sake. Set an example.”

“Aprop-” Jughead cried out, pulling back enraged. “Do you have any idea what-”

Betty gripped his bicep and soothed a calming hand down his arm to lace their fingers together tightly. “It’s fine, Jug. He’s right. Let’s go home.”

  
  


**Five O’Clock**

They all met out front of the electronic doors, Veronica with the one Tegrat bag in hand. “Well, we got one at least. We’ll find another before Christmas. Let’s go home.”

At that moment, Betty and Archie’s phones dinged simultaneously.

“It’s Toni,” Betty sighed tiredly. “She said that she just heard they are restocking toys at Hallmart now.”

Veronica looked offended for a moment, glancing down at the lit-up phone in Archie’s hands. “Why would she text you with Betty and not me?”

Archie turned red, looking a bit guilty as he glanced between the phone and his wife. “It’s not Toni, Ron,” Archie explained. “It’s...I called your dad earlier. I figured if anyone could get us this Hokémon it would be him.”

Veronica looked furious as she raised her hand and clenched her fist at her husband, repressing the urge to maul him in the middle of the mall.

“Archie,” she spat out. “You know things with Hiram are never that simple. He’ll want a favor or something will go wrong.”

Archie looked down at his phone and then hopefully up at his wife. “He says a guy can meet us outside in the space between Stacy’s and Groomingfale’s. We have to try.”

Jughead ran a hand over his tired face and rolled his neck. He was exhausted, sore, hungry, and still not entirely over the entire incident with pantsless Santa from earlier. “We’re not going home yet, are we?”

Archie looked so hopefully and Veronica cracked, sagging her shoulders in concession. “One more try. You two head back to Hallmart and Archie and I will follow my dad’s lead. No matter what, we meet back at the car after that. Give them the spare key, Arch. No one should have to wait in the cold if they get there first.”

Archie unhooked the spare key from its ring, Jughead confused as to why he had it with him to begin with. “Just out of curiosity, Arch. Why do you have this on you?”

“Oh,” Archie said as if it were common sense. “What if this one broke or I lost it? I like to be prepared, you know?”

Betty and Jughead stared at their adorable friend blankly. “Yeah, but Arch, if you lost the ring-” Jughead began, stopping as Veronica shook her head at him, asking him to let it go.

“All right.” Betty yawned. “One hour max, guys. That’s it.”

With an agreement on the plan, they headed their separate ways. As they began to head to Hallmart, Betty’s phone dinged again.

TT: Hurry up, guys! The shelves are already totally stocked!

Betty showed Jughead her phone and he groaned, before rolling his eyes and nodding. Grabbing her hand, they took off at a run, getting all Flo-Jo on Riverdale Mall.

“Topiary!” Jughead yelled out, yanking Betty to the side before she smacked into it, her shoulder just brushing up against it. Maneuvering around shoppers, they navigated through the corridors, hopping a bench in the way. Half-way there Jughead tugged Betty’s arm harshly, doing a quick lap through the food court and grabbing free samples from every tray available.

Tired and huffing, they flew through the mechanical doors of Hallmart and headed straight to the displays they had found earlier in the morning. The first display was almost empty and Jughead’s heart dropped, knowing Betty was at the end of her rapidly fraying rope. 

“C’mon,” Jughead urged, pulling her towards the next display, which was also messy and desolate.

“Excuse me!” Betty called, flagging down an employee. “We heard that you were restocking toys. Can you point us to which display is full?”

Cranky and exhausted himself, the pudgy man in a green elf hat began to chuckle at her. “Listen, ma’am, you are out of your delusional mind if you think we have time to restock while all you greedy, middle-aged shoppers trash our aisles, steal merchandise, and create havoc. I’m barely doing crowd control here. Why don’t you just relax, go get yourself a nice donut and coffee, and come back another day?”

Jughead sucked in a deep breath and shook in fear. “Good lord, no.”

“Ma’am?” Betty cried out, finally snapping after hours and hours of being awake and existing on caffeine and holiday cheer. “Middle-aged? Go get a donut? Do I look like I sit all day and scarf down donuts to you, pal? Is this the body of a middle-aged mom who has nothing better to do?”

In a total zone, Betty began to peel off her sweatshirt, nostrils flared and almost smoking as she stared down the employee. “I am just trying to bring some elfing Christmas magic to my kids! Yes, I have kids! This middle-aged body had two of them and guess what? I ate plenty of donuts then!”

Stripping off her t-shirt, Betty was left in a barely-there tank-top. She pulled up the bottom, exposing her well-toned stomach as she continued to rant. “There’s my donut-belly, you useless excuse for an elf. I run six miles for this, asswipe! Do you only restock shelves for models? Because if so-”

Jughead pulled at Betty’s shoulders, yanking her finger from the employee’s face as he watched the mall security approach. Betty paused mid-yell, examining herself and her surroundings before turning and looking up, embarrassed, and frustrated at her husband.

“Jug,” she whimpered, her bottom lip trembling. “I’m so tired.”

“I know, baby,” he sighed, pulling her into a hug.

“Ma’am? Sir?” security said authoritatively. “You’ll need to come with us.”

…..

Outside, Veronica was freezing. “Remind me again why we are freezing our asses off out here?”

“Uh, because we didn’t want to carry our coats through the hot mall this morning so we left them in the truck?” Archie said, honestly, earning a smack from his wife.

“No, you ginger Judas!” she snapped. “Because you went behind my back and called my father! My father, the man who tried to have you killed and imprisoned? What is wrong with you?”

Archie shrugged and rubbed at the spot where she smacked him, the sting worse from the frigid air biting at his skin. “I don’t know. I was desperate. I got caught up in the holiday madness and making Freddie happy. It was dumb. I’m sorry.”

Veronica’s glare turned into more of a pout and her eyes softened. “I know, Archie. You meant well, but it seems like no one is coming.”

“You Hiram’s kid?” a quiet voice called from the shadows.

Veronica glanced hesitantly at her husband and he held out a hand, urging her to stay put as he advanced to where the man stood.

“We are. Mr. Lodge said you had what we needed.” Archie began, getting straight down to business.

“It will cost you,” he said sleazily. “Two-fifty for this thing. They aren’t easy to get and this one may have fallen off the back of a truck if you know what I mean.”

“Two-fifty,” Archie mumbled, shaking his head. After the night they had, he needed this all to end. In any other set of circumstances, he would have walked away. Taking out his wallet, he pulled out cash and handed it over, taking the bag from the man who slunk back into the shadows.

“A pleasure,” he called, disappearing behind the building. As Archie turned back, a bright light shone in his eyes and Veronica stood scowling, hands on her hips.

“Mall security,” a deep voice boomed. “You’ll need to come with me, sir.”

…..

“Veronica?”

“Betty?”

“Arch?”

“Jug?”

“Well, isn’t this a quaint little reunion?” a voice laughed from the doorway of the holding cell.

“Reggie?” they all yelled out, shocked, in unison.

“That’s Reginald to you, animals,” he chortled. “I was promoted to head of security last week, which you would know if you ever read the messages on the GroupFriend app I invited you to join.”

“That’s amazing, bro!” Archie said genuinely before lowering his voice. “So, can you help get us out of here?”

Reggie grinned and crossed his arms over his chest. “I can do that. But first, I wanna know how you wound up in an alley buying an ‘Ultra’mon.”

“An Ultra-what?” Archie cried out in distress. “What the hell in an Ultra’mon?”

Reggie shrugged and showed him the box. “The Jamaican version of Ultrazard?”

Veronica was enraged. Red-faced and fuming she turned to Archie and spat out, “You paid two-hundred-fifty dollars for a bootleg Hokémon? I told you not to trust my father!”

“You dropped two-fifty for that?” Jughead repeated, exhaling out slowly. “That’s pretty bad, man.”

Reggie tossed the fake toy onto his desk and leaned back against it. “B. Jones,” Reggie said cheekily. “I also need to know how you wound up topless in Hallmart yelling at one very lucky employee. If you did that for me I’d have handed you the toy and thanked you for your business.”

Betty flushed fuchsia as Jughead clenched his fists and Archie and Veronica stared at her slack-jawed.

“Reg?” Betty begged. “I’m so tired and my kids will be waking up soon.  _ Please _ if you have any soul, let me go home and forget tonight ever happened?”

Reggie pretended to mull it over before dropping his arms and grabbing his keys, letting them out of their cell. “Fine. But we grab beers next week and you tell me the whole story then.”

“Deal,” they all agreed, grabbing their things and trudging to the front.

“Hey, wait!” Archie said as they left. “Reg, we did have one real Ultrazard with us in a Tegrat bag. Where is it?”

Reggie looked at them apologetically, scratching his head. “Yeah, one of the guys took it as evidence and now it’s kind of missing.”

“Fantastic,” Jughead groaned, dropping his head back to stare up at the ceiling. “This was officially the longest night of my life. Let’s go home.”

  
  


**Six O’Clock**

At the strike of six they dragged themselves up the front steps and through the door. Cheryl and Toni were already awake and waiting with a pot of freshly brewed coffee at the dining room table. A plate of bagels, scones, and turnovers was laid out as well, and Archie and Jughead dug in gratefully, moaning into each bite, without so much as a hello.

“You guys look like you went through a war zone,” Toni said, taken aback by their appearance. Betty and Veronica were still covered in random patches of glitter and Jughead’s black eye was swollen and purple. The girls slumped down on the couch, too sore to even make it to the dining room table.

“Cousin?” Cheryl said, baffled. “Pray tell why you are wearing ten dollar mom leggings and four-hundred dollar velvet pumps?”

“Cheryl,” Betty groaned with a shake of her head. “If we could never talk about what happened this morning again that would be great. I just need ten minutes of quiet before my kids are awake and the day gets chaotic.”

While Cheryl looked angry, Toni looked sympathetic. “You didn’t find them, did you?”

“No,” Veronica said flatly. “Well yes, but then… You know what? Nevermind.”

Toni walked to the front all closet and opened the door, pulling two boxes from the top-shelf as Betty and Veronica sat up straighter and looked at her, shock and confusion written all over their faces.

“Th-these are Ultrazards. Two of them! Toni, how did you-”

“Sweet Pea,” Toni said, filling in the blanks. “When I realized that Greendale Hallmart was restocking and you were at Riverdale, and you sounded so excited, I realized you hadn’t found them yet. I took a shot and texted Sweet Pea and he and his guys… made a few calls, is how I’ll say it.”

Veronica cocked her head to the side and Betty just shook hers, grabbing Toni and hugging her tightly. “You know what? I’m not going to question that one. Thank you, T.”

“Aww, not a problem,” Toni smiled. “I’d do anything to see those little elves of yours happy.”

Her words hit like an anvil dropping on the Jones home. At once, Betty’s hug ceased and her eyes bugged out as Jughead dropped his coffee cup spilling the hot liquid all over the table, frantic eyes shifting over to his wife.

“The elf!” they both yelled in unison, Jughead scrambling towards the basement and moments later tossing a tiny, red elf up the steps to Betty. From a junk drawer, Betty pulled out a pre-prepared note and stuck the elf up on their dining room chandelier, taping the note to its hand, just as a bedroom door creaked open.

Izzy padded out, unicorn doll in hand, looking all around the room until she found what she was looking for.

“Sparkles!” she cried, pointing at the elf. “You came back! You didn’t forget me!”

Slumping, exhausted on the couch, Betty fell against her husband’s side as his arm dropped over her shoulders. Crisis averted.

Veronica and Archie grabbed a still sleeping Freddie and headed home as Toni and Cheryl said their goodbyes as well.

“So, nothing clever to say about this Black Friday disaster, Jug?” Betty teased, resting peacefully against him while Izzy colored. 

“There are no words, Betts,” he sighed. “Plus, you had too intense of a night for me to inundate you with more holiday snark.”

“Aww, Juggie,” she smiled, kissing his jaw. “You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t do that.”

Jughead grinned down at her and kissed the top of her head. “Well in that case, ‘Hallelujah! Holy shit! Where’s the Tylenol?’”

“Accurate, husband,” Betty giggled. “So very accurate.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I’m not really sure what to say about this one except that it happened. I promise you all another story filled with love and tenderness and true holiday happiness, but for now I hope you enjoyed this adventure in American consumerism.
> 
> My mom and I actually Black Friday shop. We have since I was 13. Before that she went with her mom. We don’t get nuts. We go out at 5am and for us it’s just more the excitement of the first decorations and that 5am gingerbread latte we grab along the way. We sing in the car and talk about old Christmas stories. I look forward to it every year. 
> 
> I’ve never had a time like the core 4 did here. Once my wallet was stolen though, but I ACTUALLY have an uplifting story about the DMV that accompanies it! Surprising, I know!
> 
> I want to thank Jandy for all her amazing beta skills, moral support, and the beautiful graphic she made! You are wonderful!
> 
> Wishing you all health and happiness this holiday season!


End file.
